


Flightless Bird

by MoodyAquarius



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, AU where Cas doesn't know he's an angel, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe where John left the boys with Bobby, Anna and Cas sibling relationship, Anna knows the truth, Cas is a teenager discovering he's an angel, Cas is discovering his powers, Dean tries to hunt Cas, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel High School AU, F/M, High School AU, M/M, Multi, Weechesters, destiel au, eventual pairing of Dean and Cas, just like, read it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyAquarius/pseuds/MoodyAquarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU where Dean and Sam get left with Bobby to have a normal life, which is mostly true except they hunt on the side (mainly DEAN hunts on the side). Cas is an abandoned angel who got cast out from heaven and bound in a vessel, with no memory of ever being an angel and no memory of his past. Anna fell to help him regain his memory and return back to heaven eventually. Dean tries to hunt Cas, eventual Destiel!!! </p><p>WIP. Comments appreciated :) More chapters to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flightless Bird

“I ain’t gonna sit here and wait around for your lilly-ass all day, boy!”

Dean chuckled around the bite of eggs in his mouth, glancing up at the clamor of limbs coming from the stairs.

“I’m coming!” The tangle of gangly limbs called in a voice that cracked ever so slightly. Sam clumsily took a seat next to his brother, quickly thanking Bobby for breakfast before stuffing his mouth to full capacity.

“I swear the amount of time you take on yer damn hair, boy.” Bobby gathered the frying pan and spatula, haphazardly throwing them in the sink for later. He patted his hands on his oil-stained pant legs, taking his own seat and enjoying the meal he’d prepared.

It was as close to normal as their lives had ever been. It was a silent agreement that John’s decision to leave his sons with Bobby years ago had been a good one. None of them talked about it, none of them acknowledged John’s sudden permanent absence. They quietly carried on through their lives, desperately grasping at normalcy and silently suffering the loss of their father. It was just easier not to talk about it.

Dean finished off his plate first, as always and reached across the table for seconds.

“So, how’s school?”

Sam perked up, smiling through a bite, “Great!”

“Good.” Bobby drew his weary eyes toward Dean, “...Dean?”

The now-senior shrugged, “Ready to be done.”

“You might wanna go to class if you’re plannin’ on bein’ done any time soon.” He met the fleeting green eyed gaze with a stern, fatherly glare.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean mumbled into his cup of coffee. Dean tuned out the rest of Sam and Bobby’s conversation about Sam’s stellar, impressive grades that only gave Dean a sour taste in the mouth. He was happy for  Sam’s success, of course, but the idea of someone liking school was disgusting to him.

After breakfast, as always the boys dismissed Bobby, stepping off his rotting porch and beginning the trek to school. Dean’s walk was more of a trudge while his gangly, nerdy freshman brother bounced beside him like a clumsy baby giraffe. He was nearly Dean’s height and it really upset the older Winchester, who desperately tried to push his little brother back down into childhood.

“So, Sammy, any cute girls in your classes?”

Sam’s shifty eyes met Dean’s for a moment, before tearing away. Dean chuckled, “So that’s a yes?” Sam blushed and scratched at his neck.

“No..”

“C’mon Sammy, tell me.”

Sam drew out an exaggerated sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk as they passed beneath his feet, “She’s… in my biology class. Skinny, pretty, she has brown eyes. I think her name is Anna?”

“Anna? The redhead?”

“Y-yeah,” Sam’s voice got small.

“Anna’s a senior, dude!”

“I know…” Sam picked at his backpack strap.

Dean smiled to himself, warmly encouraging, “Hey, that doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance. You may be a nerd, but she seems to like that.” He smiled at his brother, who suddenly looked hopeful.

“You heard that?”

“Yeah, sure did.” He continued grinning on, “Just talk to her, man.”

Sam nodded at his feet, “O-okay.” Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder, chuckling, “Atta boy.”

Half way through the school day, Dean’s mind always shut off. Today, because it was a B day, he sat, staring into space in his required financial literacy class, which he’d put off taking until senior year. The teacher  droned on about checking accounts and fraud, or some bullshit.

Dean let his eyes drift around the un-stimulating classroom, glaring at all the posters with info-graphics and sloppily written student made copies out of a textbook about marriage, money and family. He glared down at his own desk, which was absent of any school supplies. The droning woman didn’t even take her eyes from the bland black and white power point she was reading off to notice that half the class was asleep.

Dean groaned and glanced around at the half full classroom, noticing faces he’d been seeing for four years now, people he considered acquaintances, a couple of strangers, a couple of kids nobody knew and some of the mega nerds actually taking notes.

He began to count the kids with their heads down, sleeping. He mentally counted the heads, as he did one moved, then drew up lazily. It was a dark haired kid, who blinked his eyes and rubbed his face, looking surprised at the fact that he’d fallen asleep. Dean chuckled to himself, noticing the red marks on the guy’s forehead and cheek from where he’d been mashing his face into his notebook. His glasses were also mashed  across his face, looking misshapen and in need of a screwdriver.

Dean tried to recall if he knew that kid, he felt like he was familiar somehow. He’d probably been going here as long as Dean had, maybe he was just one of the background people. He watched the kid, because he was the only thing moving in the room.

The dark haired boy pulled out his phone, unlocking it and scrolling around, checking apps, answering texts. After he set that down he slumped back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest, which was clad in a navy blue sweater that looked really itchy. He yawned wide then started to drift again, his head dipping then knocking himself awake and scaring himself. Dean laughed.  

Without missing a beat, suddenly a pair of wide blue eyes met his and Dean held the gaze for only a second before jerking away and pulling out his own phone, pretending he hadn’t been watching him. Not at all.  

Everyone had woken up in time to wait the two agonizing minutes for the bell to ring and release them from this torture. Dean bit his lip in concentration, willing the clock to tick faster, willing time itself to alter for him. Finally, the sharp ding filled the room and everyone practically ran, pushing and shoving to the lunch room. Dean stuffed his phone in his jacket pocket and made his way out towards the door. He walked quickly out the door, towards his car to go pick up fast food for lunch. As he strode across the grass, a small tug on his sleeve pulled him backward.

He turned, readying his hand for the knife he always kept handy in his pocket, but was met again by that tired looking guy. His blue eyes sharpened, his mouth straightening out before demanding, “Why did you laugh at me?”

Dean was a little stupefied, glaring at the guy for a moment before bursting, “What?”

“In class. I heard you, you laughed at me.” He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, “Why?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight to his other leg. He used his natural defense, charm. He smiled at the angry looking brunette, asking, “What’s your name again?”

“Why is that relevant?” The slightly shorter guy was starting to look flustered.

“Wait… I’ve seen you. You’re… Anna’s brother, aren’t you?”

The boy licked his lips, “Yes.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, prompting him to finish the statement. The brunette rolled his eyes, spurting, “Cas. I’m Cas.” He fiddled with his glasses, demanding again, “Now why did you laugh?”

“My brother has a crush on your sister, by the way.” He chuckled. “Don’t blame him.”

Cas made a face of disgust, groaning, “Why won’t you just answer me?”

“Why do you care so much?” Dean cocked his head at him. Cas continued to glare up at his face, having to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as they slid lazily. Dean glanced down at his eyes again, carelessly adding, “Those glasses could use a screwdriver.” And with that, he turned and continued his way to his car, onward to lunch.

Castiel stood, teeth gritted and fists clenched in a huff, then he too turned back to the school, deciding it wasn’t worth fighting with that jerk anyways.

 

Cas sat at lunch by himself as he often did. He preferred silence instead of having to fill it with meaningless conversations. Anna would often walk past with her constant crowd of friends, and stop for a moment to say hello. Cas liked Anna just fine, in fact she was usually the only person at school that paid any attention to him.

His glaring unpopularity was no mistake, he made it that way, he liked it that way. It was so much easier to be an outsider, distanced from everyone than to have to keep himself under check all day. He was good looking enough that he noticed girls’ wandering eyes on him, but he kept an arsenal of excuses for why he couldn’t date or why he was busy for every school dance or event. It was a craft of his.

He was a secret interest of mainly the girls, who made up fantastic rumors about him, and he was hated by the boys, who sincerely believed he was a vampire or some sort of incubus.

He stared at his half eaten plate of greasy pizza, narrowing his eyes. Softly, soft enough for no one to notice, his fork rose on his plate and began to spin. He grinned softly, twitching a finger and throwing the fork onto the floor five feet in front of him. Nothing anyone in a noisy common area would notice. He began to stare deeply at his apple, willing the stem to twist until it popped off, and as it did he raised that in the air in front of him with his penetrating blue-eyed gaze.

“Cas!” The stem fell to the floor.

He gasped and followed the voice, then calmed at the sight of his sister. “Jeez, Anna don’t scare me like that.”

“Cas, what the hell? You can’t just do that here!” She hushed whispered yells at him. “We’ve talked about this.” She sighed.

“I know, sorry.” He set his plate to his side, using his hands.

“If someone saw…”

“I know, I know.”

She ran a hand through her fiery red hair, casting her brown eyes down on him, “Anyways… how are you?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” She sat beside him, folding her slim hands over her knees.

“Anna I appreciate you, I do, but it makes me look twice as pathetic having my sister come and check up on me every day at lunch. I’m a big kid, and I’m fine.”

She frowned, “I’m just-”

“I know. Anna,” He touched her shoulder, “I promise, I’m fine. I’m coping, alright? I’m controlling.” He stood, picking up the plate with him, “I’m under control.” He soothingly cooed, then swiftly walked away, tossing the plate and going out the nearest door. Anna sighed, watching him leave, then turned back to the gossiping group of girls standing in a circle waiting for her, with a plastered smile.

Cas decided he could miss a day of chemistry, as he wandered out into the nearby woods that rolled out in front of him. The air hung with a light prelude to the rain that was always looming near. He smelled the exact location of the rain cloud. As he walked, he tucked his glasses away into the pocket of his backpack, letting his eyes work at their full capacity.

He paused once in the woods, stopping and breathing in around him, sighing contently. He could hear for miles out around him in all directions. He felt a slight static in his head.

Ever since he could remember, Anna had been teaching him to keep all of it a secret. He didn’t know why he was like this, and neither did Anna. She was just always there to teach him to be secretive and careful. Over  the years, he’d developed his tricks into something better and better. He’d pretty much mastered telekinesis, along with his strange internal GPS he always seemed to have. He could pinpoint his exact location by longitude, latitude, degrees and direction at any time. He had no idea why.

Most of his life had been a blur of confusion, shrouded in shame and doubt. He knew nothing of his parents or previous family. He lived with Anna and her parents, adopted in. According to his surrogate parents, when he was five years old he’d been found wandering alone in the same woods he stood in now. No explanation.  

After the years of frustrating questions, he’d finally just settled for no answers. It was easier. It was less heart breaking. Becoming numb made his abandoned existence much more… liveable.

The woods made him feel safe, the woods wouldn’t tell anyone that he was a family-less freak. He enjoyed being alone, because it was all he’d ever been. He rolled up the sleeves of his puffy sweater, slipping his backpack off with a light thud into the dirt. He outstretched his hand, staring at a leaf, plucking it from it’s spot and raising it high into the air, then letting it fall. A small warm up.

He began to move bigger things, rocks, branches, moss covered logs. He was really curious to see how strong he was, so as he concentrated on the log he was holding in the air, he flexed his mind and tried to throw it out in front of him, watching with pride as it launched at least thirty feet out into the forest. It disappeared into the greenery, and Castiel smiled, until he heard a shout.

The blood drained from his face. He stood, frozen like a deer in headlights, waiting for more sound. He zeroed in and listened, hearing a frantic heartbeat thrumming in a gasping chest. He heard a growl come from that throat, a human growl, followed by a muttering of “Sonuvabitch!”

He recognized the voice faintly, cocking his head and trying to piece it to a face. He didn’t have to though, as the body belonging to the voice picked itself up out of the dirt and charged at him. It was that boy, that boy that had laughed at him in class earlier. Dean Winchester. Watching him charge, Castiel panicked and suddenly launched himself into the nearest tree in the blink of an eye. He gasped at the speed with which he moved, shocking himself with the surreal quickness.

Dean stumbled in his running, looking around at the now empty forest floor, muttering, “What the hell?” He growled, clenching his fists, knuckles white. “Where are you, you bastard?” He glared around him, “Monster, huh? Well you just hit the wrong hunter.” Dean slipped a shining silver knife from his leather coat pocket, which made Cas gasp from the sheer shockingness of it.

Dean caught the noise, looking up with a snarl on his lips, “Gotcha.” He squinted, looking a bit harder, seeing the scared face of Anna’s little brother, Cas. His face dropped, “ _Cas_?” green eyes widening out of their sockets.

Cas gasped raggedly for breath, dislodging a few leaves from his hair, “H-Hey.” Dean not so nonchalantly slipped his knife back into his pocket, suspiciously glaring up at him,

“How the hell did you do that?”

“I honestly have no idea.” He clung to the branch like a frightened cat. Suddenly he realized he didn’t know how to get down. God dammit this was embarrassing, “Um, Dean…. could you uh,” he cleared his throat, “help me down?”

Dean ignored his request, “You know my name?”

“Who doesn’t?” Cas muttered. He cleared his throat once more, “You’re really bad at answering questions.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’m just not sure… how.” He approached the thick tree with a troubled face. “You’re up really high.” He eyed Cas suspiciously again. “How did you do that?”

“How about you get me down and I don’t mention that knife you just pulled, hm?” Cas’ arms were starting to get sore from holding his entire body weight up on a branch.

“Um… I guess just… jump?”

“Jump?!” Cas shouted, his voice changing octaves slightly. As he shouted, he lost grip, letting out a yelp and falling ungracefully from the high tree, landing in a heap in a pile of moss. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You okay?”

“Okay?! You weren’t even going to attempt to catch me?” Cas shouted again, scrambling to his feet, unscathed except for his now ripped and dirtied jeans.

“Catch you? And break my arms? No thanks.” He continued to chuckle to himself.

“You’re a dick.” Cas reached down for his backpack, turning to march out of the woods, until he was stopped by a strong hand.

“First, you gotta tell me how you did that.” Dean was suddenly all business. He moved his jacket, revealing the inside pocket that contained the silver knife, showing it to Cas threateningly. Cas’ breath hitched in his throat.

“Wh-what was that crap about being a hunter? Hunter of what?”

“Things like you.” Dean narrowed his eyes, tugging Cas closer by the front of his sweater. His voice was sharp like razors and as serious as death. Cas breathed out a shaky gasp,  

“I don’t know how I did it, I just did.” He reeled for air, or for freedom from Dean’s gripping hand.

“Not buying it.” Dean stroked the handle of his blade, tugging Cas closer.

Cas squirmed in his grasp, hyperventilating and trying to find a way out of this, a way to keep his secret. “I don’t know!”

Dean slipped the knife out, then spun Cas in his arms, roughly holding him against his own body, Cas’ back pressed to his chest and the smooth, cold silver resting menacingly at his throbbing jugular. Cas’ palms turned slick and his adrenaline kicked in, he felt something white hot inside him burst outward, and in a split second he burst, propelling Dean ten feet backwards in a burst of light, and himself running, the forest blurring together in his stride. He made it out, collapsing on the ground panting, begging for air. He gasped, feeling a sharp burn in his hand, opening it and staring at the sight of a white flame resting in the palm of his hand, flickering and rising. His chest faltered and struggled, and with a whimper, the flame was gone, and he ran home.


End file.
